REFLECTIONS
by Klariss
Summary: Chapter 6 is up now Bosco's POV! Just after Lights up, Bosco trys to kill himself. I'm french so I don't look the 4s season.Thanks to DancingWolves and Neko for correct my mistakes
1. Default Chapter

REFLECTIONS  
  
"You're useless. What are you doing here? You're useless. "  
  
It's not the first time I've heard that; my mother and father already said it to me. My father always belittled me; it wasn't a surprise coming from him. He always hated me, maybe because when he hit my mother, I tried not to cry, maybe because I played the role of man of the house when he left, when I took better care of my mother than he ever did.  
  
This shell that I built up around myself, it's because of him, so that nothing can hurt me. I suffered too much when I was young, from the absence of my father, from his mockeries when he was there! I also suffered from all this violence, which I knew before the age of 10, how somebody who claims to be a human being can do that to a woman and, worse still, to two children. my father, this man who never knew what life was worth.  
  
Then, the same sentence came from my mother's mouth, my own mother, my own blood. She didn't say it exactly, but made it clear to me; since I arrested my brother, Mickey, for possession of drugs, she doesn't speak to me anymore. She told me things that I could never erase from my memory: "Just because you're a cop doesn't mean that you should arrest everybody . He's your brother . I'm sorry that not everybody can be as perfect as you are Maurice." And she just went on and on. I have never felt so much pain, as if I'd been stabbed.  
  
It seems like everyone is turning away from me. but maybe it's my punishment? But did I deserve this punishment? I arrested my brother, but I'm a cop, so what was I supposed to do? Let him sell his drugs to anybody? Let him destroy himself? She doesn't understand that I did it for Mikey. Every time I try to help, nobody notices it; after all why would somebody like Maurice Boscorelli help a person? Everybody thinks that I don't have a heart. I am the one with the friend who's afraid of my anger; everybody thinks that I become enraged for nothing.  
  
One single person, A SINGLE person has never thought bad of me, this person that I trusted with everything, the only one who didn't consider me useless, this person, tonight, turned away from me.  
  
Faith, my best friend, the one in that I could trust without restraint, the only person who always supported me, just about killed me.  
  
Fred had a heart attack. I went to the hospital to support her, and she was hysterical. She screamed me at me that I was useless, that she was tired of always putting up with me, that I go back where I came from.  
  
Oh my God, Faith! Why? What did I do? What had I said or done to hurt her? I don't know if she realized the way she made me feel, she broke my heart. A lot of people have hurt me, but that . it's as if she ripped out my heart and held it in her hands, and ripped it in two.  
  
I didn't let it show on my face how she made me feel. I just left and now I find myself here, in my mother's bar, a person who hates me, for what I did, for what I am. People walk by me, without seeing me, I've become a ghost, invisible and useless. I'm ignored, I'm misunderstood.  
  
What you do if the people you love turn away from you?  
  
I am in the men's room at the bar, ashamed to look at my reflection in the mirror. My mother, Faith, everybody considers at me useless. Even at work everybody ignores me. I walk around as if I was nothing; well, more to the point, nobody looks at me or talks to me.  
  
The catechism teaches us that life is worth being lived, but when there is nothing that connects you to this world, as if you were a person among a million, and nothing distinguishes you from the others, how can anyone see you?  
  
I punch the mirror once, then again. The second one breaks the mirror into million glass slivers. That is what I am, a glass sliver no more and no less. One small sliver that when you sweep them up, stays hidden and then it waits patiently and then a barefoot man comes and steps on it, he shouts, he roars, he tries to remove the little sliver, but it will not budge, it is there, it hurts, it sinks into his skin a little, and then deeper and deeper until it reaches the bone, and then finally you are stuck with it. What is only a small sliver turns out to be your worst nightmare.  
  
I let off steam on this mirror.  
  
I don't want to think about what Faith said me, maybe physical pain will make me forget the mental pain? No, once again I made a mistake, nothing can make me forget! The slivers of glass cut into my skin, blood pours out, and still, it doesn't hurt as bad as what Faith said, so I keep letting the slivers of glass cut into my hands. My hands are a mess, but still I continue to cut my hands.  
  
I begin to cry, to ask what's left for me now that my one true friend thinks that I'm useless. What do I do now? I look at my hands, at the blood in the sink, and at the blood that has splattered the ground, and then I see it. A large piece of glass from the mirror. I know what to do now. It's the only solution. Nobody will miss me anyway.  
  
I pick up the piece of mirror and I put it on my right wrist and I cut it. The blood begins to pour out. I put the glass on my other wrist and do the same. A sort of bliss fills me; it's the first time in months that I've felt so at peace. Maybe because for once, for one last time, I know that I have done something. 


	2. before the death

I collapse to the ground, everything becomes vague except my pain, not physical pain, but the pain in my heart. It doesn't release me, I can still feel it. My heart is in my hands, like my wrists; sliced in two. Everything floats around me, I'm hot, I'm cold, my head seems to be turning around 360 degrees. I see my mother telling me that it's useless to try to speak to her again, my father telling me that I am nothing, and Faith, my best friend Faith, who I would do anything for, I would do whatever I could, to make sure that she is happy and safe. I did it for her. It's for her that I'll die today. I finally understand that I'm nothing but a bother, a pain, to her. That I'm just useless so I'll get out of her life, once and for all.  
  
I could have left New York, but it wouldn't have done me any good. I would never have been able to forget the pain. I'd never have been able to forget my Faith, my best friend, who I love more than anyone, and maybe more than anyone I ever would have.  
  
It might be the coward's way out, but it's too late to worry about that now. After all, nobody cares about me, everyone says I'm useless, so there won't be anyone to cry on my coffin. There probably won't even be anyone there. If someone decides to put a headstone on my grave it could say: "Here lies Maurice Boscorelli, the totally useless cop with no heart."  
  
Useless is exactly what I am, my whole life it's all I've ever been. My last thought will be about Faith, my best friend, the woman that I have loved since the first day I met her. The one who I'm doing this for, so that she can be away from me and be safe and happy with her husband, Fred, and their two children. I hope that she is finally going to be happy, she truly does deserve that.  
  
I hate the dark, but nevertheless, I feel myself begin to head toward it. That will be my punishment, to be alone in the dark.  
  
I can tell that my heart has slowed down, but I can still feel the pain, why can't I stop feeling the pain? Why does it hurt so bad? Maybe it's because I love Faith, more than I can bear to think about.  
  
I close my eyes, the darkness is calling. I can hear nothing, I can see nothing. Oh, how much I loved her. 


	3. Where am I?

A man walked up to the bar and asked, "Is your restroom closed?"  
  
Angela Boscorelli turned to him and said, "no, why, is there a problem?"  
  
"I can't open the door."  
  
Angela grabbed the key and went to the restroom. She tried to open the door and it didn't open, so she put the key in the lock. What she saw when the door opened horrified her. her son soaked in blood.  
  
"My God! MAURICE!" She turned to the man, who had followed her and said, "please, call an ambulance, fast!"  
  
Then she knelt down beside her son and said, "Baby, what did you?"  
  
**** Bosco's Point Of View:  
  
I hear noises; I hear voices . Where am I? Is this heaven? Is this hell? This has to be hell, everything around me is black. I can sense some time of excitement, but I don't know why. I can feel that there are a lot of people around me, I can feel them hurting me, poking me with things, they are sticking things in me, why? I don't understand. Why can I still feel pain? I think my eyes are open, but I still can't see anything. I can't understand what anyone around me is saying. I try to move but it's like I am paralysed. I try to speak, I think I am speaking, but no one answers me. I have no control over my body, over my thoughts. I try to concentrate, but I can't remember what happened, why I am wherever it is that I am. What did I do to wind up here, in this place .in this dark place? I hate the dark, I don't even sleep in the dark. I wish someone would talk to me and tell me where I am.  
  
It feels like I've been here for hours, my throat is on fire. I try again to speak, I just hope that someone can hear me, at least a little, but as I try to speak, I choke. My God, I moved my fingers, I'm not paralysed. I try to move my hands, but I can't. they feel like they're tied down. Why would my hands be tied, I try to move my legs, to kick out, but even my feet are tied down. I try to struggle, but I feel hands on me holding me down, even though there's no way that I can move.  
  
**** The doctor who is working on Bosco sees that he is starting to wake up and he tries to get him to settle down before he hurts himself worse, "Maurice; Maurice, please, calm down."  
  
He turns to one of the nurses and says, "Give him 2 mg of aldol. Stat."  
  
****  
  
I smell something that I recognize, it smells like a hospital. I try to struggle, but still, I can't move. I can hear more sounds now, voices, but none that I recognize. Why can't they leave me alone. All I want is peace and quiet. I just wanted to be alone. I wanted all my pain to be gone, I guess faith was right, I am useless. I couldn't even do that right. I hear someone call my name, I try to see who it is, but I can't. I wish someone would please help me, I am so afraid of the dark, I just can't stand the dark. I feel something touch my hand, but I don't know what it was, I still can't see anything. I hear irregular beeps near my head, I can't figure out what that noise is. I feel someone touch my face, and then, oh my God, the pain, I just saw a bright light, I'm not used to light anymore. Than God it's gone. I close and open my eyes a few times and I can see, it's not dark anymore, but I still can't move. I look around and everything is white, but I do not know who anybody is or where I am. Then I see look around again I think that these people's faces are familiar, but everything is so confusing. 


	4. Memory, memories

Chapter 4

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Hi excuse me for the long time… I hope you'd like this chapter. For this, it's Dancingwolves who helped me, so thank you :o). She always helps me on all my fanfiction and it quicker… J 

Thank you too at all people who send me feedbacks. I love them and I love you ;-) 

When this chapter was in French dancingwolves corrected it but my English is bad so she doesn't understand all what I say, so if you don't understand it's my entire fault!!! J  

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~Bosco's POV~

What is this strange sensation? This uneasiness? I look at these people above me, looking into my swollen eyes. I don't understand why they look so happy and sad at the same time. Who are these people? I feel like I should know this place…. Have I been here previously? It's difficult to say. The doctor - I'm guessing that he's one, because he has a stethoscope draped around his neck and he's wearing a white uniform- he begins to speak to me; but I cannot distinguish his words, I can't concentrate. Am I at a hospital or something? Yeah, I guess I am, but what the fuck am I doing here?!

Doctor: Maurice, can you hear me? 

I see the doctor's lips moving, he's trying to say something to me…. I concentrate a little harder, although the dull pain in my head intensifies; the words become clearer, I can hear him. 

Doctor: Maurice? If you can hear me, please, make a sign.

I somehow manage to nod my head, but quickly stop when my headache becomes worse. The tense faces of the people above me seem to relax. I'm still confused…..why were they so tense in the first place?

Doctor: Hello Maurice, you can call me Marvin. Do you remember what happened?

I look down at my wrists, they're bandaged; I… but why? I don't remember. I look at the doctor; all the faces stare down at me expectantly, they think I remember what happened. I try like hell to remember, but I can't, and it's pissing me off. Everything is black; a dirty and thick black, I have this feeling that my brain has turned into mush. What the hell do they want me to remember?!

Marvin (The Doctor): It's okay, don't force it. It's not too serious, you're memory should return.

Faith: Marvin? 

Marvin: Speak to him, it should help him remember.

A beautiful young lady approaches me. I have this weird feeling, like I'm seeing an angel, she's very pretty. But I can't explain this strange feeling that seizes me when she approaches my bedside. 

Faith: Bosco? How do you feel?

How does she know my name? Should I know her? Who is she? I scan my brain repeatedly, trying to remember where I know her from, but nothing comes to mind. She says my name again and asks me to say something, anything, to her. I look at her, I stare at her. Her eyes are red and swollen, she had been crying, but why? It can't be because of me, I don't even know her, I don't remember her. She looks at me strangely, and then turns around towards the doctor. 

Faith: He doesn't recognize me?! 

Marvin: Give him some time officer, he just woke up and he's very confused. (Turns to the others) You should each see him individually, or two at a time.

~Time Interval~

People come in and out of my room; the angel from earlier enters my room next. Is it even possible that I could know a woman as beautiful as her? As she sits down on the chair by my bed, her hair catches the light; it makes it look so amazing. For a split second I have to tell myself that she IS a human and NOT an angel sent down from heaven.

Suddenly, she speaks.

Faith: Bosco? It's me, Faith.

I nod my head slightly to show her that I understand what she said. What the heck am I going to say to her? Faith? Faith…I don't remember anything. What happened? Who are you and all those other people? My head is going to explode. Please….I need some answers!

She seems to understand what I want to ask. 

Faith: It's not serious, what you've forgotten should come back soon enough. Do you remember what happened? Why you're here?

"No", I say with hesitance, my voice is hoarse.

Faith: You attempted suicide, you cut you're veins in you're moms bar; she found you soaking in your own blood. Oh Bosco! 

Suicide? ... Clear-cut... Blood... 

I don't remember her, but I remember my mother, her bar; I would have remembered something like that, that's something that practically impossible to forget. Then the suicide Faith's talking about? I, Maurice Boscorelli, tried to commit suicide? Impossible, why would I do something so stupid? Why, when ….I have so many questions that I want to ask. I hope that Faith can give me some solid answers 

Bosco: F … Faith? 

Faith: Yeah? 

I see a light in her eyes, it's hope. 

Bosco: I … How long have I been here?

Faith: About two days. God, I thought that I had lost you! Just like how I almost lost Fred!

Her voice raises a tone and it becomes firmer. Who on earth is Fred anyways? As if she could read my thoughts, she answered my unspoken question.

Faith: My husband; he had a heart attack a few days ago. 

Faith's face starts to turn red, and I can tell that she's expressing some anger in her comments as she speaks. Tears, like tiny pearls, roll down her cheeks. She starts to shout at me, her voice rising higher and higher. What the hell is her problem? I ask myself as she finally starts to calm down.

Faith: … Don't you ever scare me like that again Maurice!

Maurice, I hate my first name, my mother uses it when she's angry with me. 

Faith: Please tell me that you didn't do this to yourself because of what I said. I didn't mean it, I was just… I was panicking; Fred… I thought that he was going to die. I didn't want to say what I said to you, I swear I didn't! I can only hope that one day you will forgive me…... 

Now I'm really confused. What the hell is she talking about? What'd she say to me? What am I supposed to forgive her for?

«Maurice!!! » 

I hear a woman cry my name and I look up at the door. She's standing in its frame.

Bosco: Ma?!

Angela: Oh my baby! 

She rushes over to me and embraces me tightly; I feel like I'm five years old with a scraped knee. Finally, somebody that I know, who I remember. Somebody who I love, I know that I hurt ma when I arrested my brother, but I felt like I had no choice. I love her, my mom, I could never stop loving her, I could never stop remembering her. A mother is special. 

I have so many people who claim to be my close friends; Doc, and then Bully, or is it Sully?, And then this James, or Jimmy Doherty; I'm pretty sure that I have never liked him, or rather than I was never able to support him and his decisions. This is probably one of the very few things that I'm sure of.

One of them told me that I was a cop, naturally I know that I'm a cop, and I guess that Faith is my partner… only I don't remember. The doctor, Marvin, said that I don't want to remember it. Is it normal? I swear to him that he's wrong, I do everything I can to remember. I've got this feeling like there all talking about me behind my back. I hate it when people do that!

Ty: He remembers everything or almost everything… 

Sully: … Safe of us. 

Marvin: Indeed I believe that it is a psychological shock. It was scientifically proven that further to a violent emotional shock, a person could darken a part of their lives, with all who it contains 

Alex: But what shock?

Marvin: The same which urged him to slash his veins.

Jimmy: So if he does not remember us, that means … 

Marvin: …that one or maybe more of you were responsible, whichever part you may of played, it's what urged him to try and kill himself, and it's what urged- forced him to forget you guys. 

Faith (to herself): Oh my God! 

I'm trying to remember who visited me today and their roles in my life.

Sully and Ty, I cover our sector with them; Me and Faith are inseparable and she's my partner. I hate Jimmy….This is what everyone's telling me anyways. I'm still confused. I fell….lost. That's the word, lost.

Can you imagine anything more frustrating than not being able to remember everything that you worked her for? I can't

Faith's worried for me; I can see it in her eyes. She spoke to me about her husband, Fred. I answer her questions as short as I can and only speak to her willingly a few times. I don't feel like talking. 

I don't understand how she was able to support me if it's true that we spent more than six years working together. 

A pursuit, a shooting, Ty and Alex, I begin to remember some fragments of my life, I see certain things, Doc, Carlos, but nothing with Faith… It's nevertheless her that I would like to remember the most about.

Oh god, it was her! She's the one that called me that…word! No it can't be possible, not her…not Faith! I remember. What she said. 

Ignorance is sometimes sweeter than the truth; it's sometimes the best remedy.

Faith (Worried): Bosco! Say something … Bosco? 

Bosco: Useless!

Faith (Speechless): What did you just say?

Bosco: Useless!


	5. 5

I hurt her; but she annoyed me well before I did it.  I know that I'm a jerk sometimes, to be precise; I'm a righteous asshole.   I see her pain, it's written on her face.  But who else can I talk to?   I remember now, it's the first thing of her that I've remembered.  I didn't want to hurt her, but after all, this is HER fault, solely her fault that I'm here, in this room, in this bed, because of her, because of her words. 

Imagine that the only person that you loved rejected you.  I only want to forget her, this women, my goddess.  I only did it to avoid the suffering, but I find that the pain is worst because I must see everyone pitying me. I listen to their words of comfort, but why this charade?  Since the previous day, I suddenly have more friends then I ever had before.  That's all it takes, and everything changes.  People change, I change, my life changes. 

The Doctor visits me, asking me why did I such thing.  What a stupid question!  When someone does this, it's because he suffers, it's because he wants to get away from his own life, to go away forever, and forget his problems…forget love.  Because the worst illness, the cruelest, is this, LOVE.  A strange name for this cruel thing, she's an illness that, when she invades you, she never leaves you.  She infiltrates everywhere, in your veins, in your blood, until she affects your brain, then your heart, and then, then… you know that you will never be free.  She posses you, she uses you.  

The illness that drives me has a name: Faith.  She has an angel's face.  The same face haunts me and will haunt me for the rest of my life.  She didn't ask me why I did it, maybe she knows.  Impossible.  I never let it show, and yet…every day, when I was standing behind her, I couldn't help but look at her.  I held my breath when she spoke to me, in the secret hope that she would tell me what I wanted to hear.  But no, she didn't and she never will.  She has a family, two sweetheart children and a husband that she loves more than anything else, and if I never appreciated Fred, he deserves it.  

Why dream about the impossible?  She deserves more than a guy like me, stubborn and stupid for having feelings and taking an opportunity when it presented itself.  But why not?  I've worked with her for eight years, and never have I felt such admiration for a woman.

And she's gone.  After I told her, she left.  Her face suddenly changed; I saw tears in her eyes, tears of pain and guilt.  And again, "I'm sorry."  I hate that expression; people use it, without knowing it's signification.  Why are they sorry, can anybody tell me?   I believe that it is systematic with accidents, death, and suicide attempts.  It's in the last case, I think, that this phrase is the most pathetic.  It's not them lying on this bed, confronted by stares that say, "why did you do it, why didn't you ask for help?"   I believe that the worst of all is "How did he get to this point?"  I see pity in people's eyes.  I hate it when someone pities me, it's not even support, it's… it's pathetic. 

I again feel the pain, this pain that I've been trying to escape.  All I did was make it worse.  I find myself at the starting point, with crazy counselors on my back, asking me stupid questions, trying to adapt their therapy to Maurice Boscorelli.  I wish them luck! Because nothing, nothing that they could tell me will make this pain disappear, or the love that I have for this woman disappear.  Will she realize it one day?  I can only hope.        


	6. Because of you

Her sweet face, it's what I prefere to wake up to. She is there, looking at me intensely; she came back today.  I can see the sadness in her beautiful eyes.  Oh, if only she knew… if only…

Bosco: Hey.

Faith: How are you feeling today?

Bosco: Better.

I don't tell that I'm feeling good; if I was good I would not be here, trying to fight against my feelings, against my nightmares, against me. 

Faith: I need to ask you something. The doctor that came the other day, he said that your actions…

Bosco: My actions…?

Why is she talking about my "actions" like they were something irrelevant?  On the contrary, it seemed to me and still seems to me, that it was the best thing to do.  Maybe it was a dumb solution, a coward's solution, but it was made for me, because I'm a coward.  I preferred to run away from reality rather than confront it.  And God knows how times I must confront it, because of my mother, because of my brother….  But this time I didn't have the strength, I still don't. 

Bosco: Is it so hard to call it a suicide attempt?  

My voice was firmer that I was expected, not that it's a bad thing.  Maybe it will help her to understand…

Faith: Well, Marvin told us that it was linked to somebody close to you; that you did it because of what someone said or did.

Why now?  I preferred it when she avoided asking me questions, THE question.  What am I suppose to tell her?

Faith: Bosco, truthfully, tell me, is it because of me, because of what I said to you?  Is that why you did it?  Please, answer me.   

Her voice was trembling; if I tell her yes, what will she think of me?  And of herself?  I know she didn't mean it; she will never think that I'm useless. The fact is, she did tell me that, and she broke my heart.  How to explain to her that I did it to escape her.  I did it, this action, as she calls it, because she consumes me.

Bosco: No

Faith: Tell me the truth Boz.

Why?  How can she read me like I'm an open book?  I always hide my feelings, except when she is there. We have been partners for eight years. Over eight years we have learned everything about one another, and now, she knows me better then I do.  I hate her for that; I can't hide anything from her.  Ever.

Faith: Oh God Bosco! It's my fault; I didn't mean what I told you.   I… I was afraid; I thought Fred was dying.  You have done everything you can to help me and… I'm sorry.  I know that I hurt you, but I never wanted to. God, look what I drove you to.  

I hate seeing her in this state.  Her beautiful blue eyes become cloudy, tears begin to fall, because of me.  Yeah, I wanted to leave this world to keep from hurting her, but it had the opposite effect.  I am so stupid.  As if suicide would have resolved anything.

Faith: Oh, Bosco, God knows how much I love you. I will always love you, and…

Bosco: Stop it, Faith!

If she knew only knew how much I loved her.  I want to scream my love for her, prove it to her.  But she only considers me at a friend, now and forever.  I'm the good guy; the one she talks to when something is wrong.  Fred doesn't like me because I spend more time with her then he does. But if he knew what he had.  I would give all that I have to hold her in my arms, just one time, to smell her hair, to touch her face… Oh yeah, great, I'm becoming romantic… But how can you escape feelings when they're within you.  She loves me; she told me. But not like I love her.  After all, what right do I have to desire someone who I don't deserve?  I will hurt her, but for the moment, it's her who hurts me.  I must push her away from me. I don't want to hurt her anymore.

Bosco: I know you didn't mean it.  The fact is, you said some things that hurt me, and I will never forget. 

Faith: but…

Bosco: I'm sorry that you said them, now you can't come back.  It because of you that I'm here; it's your fault, entirely your fault.   

I'm angry. 

I could kick my ass sometimes.  I try to keep her away from me, but instead of protecting her, I hurt her.  Why do my words cause me to suffer so much?  I hurt one of, no, THE person that I love more than life, more than anything in this world.  But she has a family, and what right do I have to wish that this woman could be mine, that she would leave her husband for me.  I don't have the right.  She needs to concentrate on her family, to forget all this, to forget Maurice Boscorelli, and her life will become much easier.

We are on the verge of a breakdown. 

Faith: Bosco, I told you that I'm sorry!

Bosco: You're sorry, everybody is sorry, what does it change?  Huh?  I'm here, waiting for I don't know what, while you grieve over me. And after?  What's it going to do? How will it end?   Yes it's because of you that I cut my veins, and honestly, I regret that Doc brought me to this fucking hospital.

Faith: You don't know what you're saying. 

Bosco: No?

Faith:  No. You are the most selfish man who ever existed.  Did you think about anyone else?  About ME?  If you died, what would I do?

Bosco: You'd get over it. 

Faith: I what?  Maurice Boscorelli, of all the things that you've said to me, I won't listen to this. You're a selfish man, who only thinks of himself.  You believe cutting you wrists is the answer? Huh? You can't tell me that.

Bosco: That's not it.

Faith: Oh, so what is it? Huh?  Go ahead, I'm waiting for your explanation.

Bosco (softly): I love you.

Faith: What?

Bosco (screaming): I LOVE YOU!

This isn't right, I shouldn't have said anything.  Silence invades the room.  She's looking at me like I'm crazy.  Why did I tell her?  I want to hide from her gaze, but I can't.  For once, I must face her. But after?


End file.
